cosmicgalaxies

[cosmicgalaxies]

— 𝙃𝙖𝙙 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙, he would have known better. He would have questioned the man in the car, checked the license plate, asked for a photo ID or even confirm the service he worked for. But Bank was not in the right state of mind. The sidewalk swirled before him. The buildings across the street melted into the starless night sky. That last drink had been one too many – or maybe it was whatever that guy in the bathroom had offered him. Whatever the final straw had been, Bank did not have the means to question the dark car or the nameless stranger. 

So he climbed into the back seat. 

❝ ‘m goin’ home,❞ Words slur out of his mouth. ❝I’m on...uh...three blocks over from here...I think...❞, Bank offers, failing to supply as much as a building number or adjacent street he could be dropped at. ❝D’you have any aspirin? Advil?❞ He asks. ❝I gotta try and prevent the inevitable.❞

Driving service.

Nate smiled, because technically. Yes. They were part of some kind of driving service. And they were, coincidentally, also waiting to pick someone up. They stared at their phone, they opened the door to the black SUV. "That's me," he said, with enough confidence to convince himself of the fact as well. Could be him. For all he knew, it was him.

It was much saver to assume it was him, than to get a good scolding later when he showed up empty handed. And he didn't see anyone else waiting to be picked up. "Have a seat!"

[cosmicgalaxies]

— 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙠'𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙩 at the man's features before him. But his eyes swim — was that a leather jacket, or a cheap pleather knockoff? The gold chain around his neck, could Bank see some of the paint rubbing off? He stares harder, and the silence lingers for even longer.

❝Honestly, I have no idea if you're dressed like a chauffeur or not,❞ Bank admits. Most of the time, they knew Bank by name and, more often than not, they would even open the door for him.

Bank pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe he'd had more drinks tonight than he'd realized.

❝Shit. Uh —❞ He scrambles for his phone again. And then, quite blatantly, says ❝I can't read this, man.❞

he's wondering what she'll be wearing tonight, for once in his bleedin' life he's on time ( if a ten-minute leeway counts, sure, he's on time ), his breath fogs out in front of him stepping out of the car so he can lean backward against it. he's already reaching into his pocket for a rollie, when the little posh boy opens his mouth.

" m' i from wa' ? " incredulous, the hushed laugh is harsh, breath fogging in a sudden cloud. " look a' me mate. " a hand gestures down at himself. a sweet swiss watch, the name of which he cannot pronounce, italian shoes ( can't afford them yet, they're borrowed, but the geezer doesn't know that ), despite the temperature, his lightly oiled chest and gold chain ( nothing too chunky, just enough to glint a bit ) still makes an appearance in a deep V under a thick velvet shirt that's framed by the leather jacket. " y'think a bloody chauffeur dresses like me ? "

intoxication reads easily all over the sod, all curved lines and poor grip, obvious from where he stands. " yeah alright, wha'ssa car number. "

[cosmicgalaxies]

— ❝𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚 and not a helpful, incredibly scientific squirrel?❞ A single of Bank's eyebrows raises. He finally glances over at the man, which was more confirmation than Bank needed. After having spent every minute with your cellmate for days on end, Bank had come to learn Veer's mannerisms, his vocal inclinations, more than his own father...which wasn't really saying much.

❝And if I asked for proof?❞ Bank continued to ask. ❝Would I find it on the Spongebob Wikipedia page?❞ He's curious with just how far Veer will go with his bullshitting. In Bank's experience...well, it could be pretty far. Bank can't help but smile as he flicks part of his cigarette. ❝You didn't imagine you'd ever meet me at the famed Spongebob Squarepants bus stop? You must not know me at all. I'm always touring famous spots from childhood cartoons.❞ Which Banks then laughs about. ❝If I was spying on you, I certainly wouldn't tell you about it now.❞

Then again, Bank was not a big believer in coincidence, but he wouldn't chalk their reunion to some kind of divine intervention. ❝I didn't actually think I'd see you again, that's for sure.❞

[cosmicgalaxies]

— 𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜: you're not getting along and I have to prove to HR that we're at least trying. Bank, however, was a grown man, and under the belief that he did not have to spend time with anyone that he didn't want to. So why was he stuck in a maze of rooms trying to locate three keys which would only lead them to another series of locks and puzzles with his sister nagging in his ear?

❝Would it kill you to take the stick out of your ass?❞ Bank groans. He is not taking this team-building exercise seriously in the slightest. ❝ I mean — how is this even a 'team building exercise'? I've spent thirty years working with you, what is one escape room gonna do to fix that?❞ Eyes roll. ❝You're just getting in the way of me solving this, anyway,❞ Not that Bank had been looking hard for clues. He was smart enough to hire other people to look for him. Delegate. Wasn't that the point of a good leader? ❝Aren't you miss smarty-pants anyway? Why haven't you solved this thing and gotten us out in record time?❞

・   ✦   ・𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐂𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐒 /   *    (  starter  for @cosmicgalaxies )

Her half-sibling, Bank, possessed an uncanny ability to elicit in Anchali an overwhelming desire to drive her head straight into the fucking wall. Recently, due to an embarrassing incident involving a board meeting, the two found themselves entangled in the clutches of a corporate retreat—a purported team-building event designed to instill a semblance of cooperation in their sibling rivalry. Anchali's trademark undercuts and her turbulent disregard for her brother's authority had undoubtedly earned her a spot on her father's shit list, condemning her to navigate these tense corporate waters for the foreseeable future.

The setting for their reluctant collaboration was a high-tech marvel of a building, effectively functioning as a metaphorical prison, where Anchali and Bank were compelled to work in unison. The Escape Room, of challenges presented a series of puzzles that demanded their joint efforts to decipher and ultimately "escape" within a designated time frame. The tension in the air was teeming as the half-siblings found themselves immersed in an environment that mirrored the complexities of their strained relationship. Anchali's sharp wit and acerbic commentary punctuated the air, "Would it kill you to approach this with some semblance of competence?"

[cosmicgalaxies]

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗

— ❝𝙅𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙❞, Bank stands on the icy sidewalk with only a light jacket to keep him warm. He rubs both arms to keep warm. There was enough vodka in his belly to keep him from freezing right away, but the impending chill was imminent. How much longer would he be out here, waiting? He tugs on his sleeve to reveal his watch. ❝Damn, they were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago...❞ Or was it twenty minutes from now? The numbers were swimming too much for Bank to see properly. When a car parks itself at the edge of the sidewalk, Bank squints his eyes and approaches. ❝Are you here with...uh...❞ His mind blanks on the name. When he requested for a driver, they'd sent him a confirmation message, which now slips Banks mind, and he fumbles to procure his phone from his pocket. ❝Just tell me, are you from the driving service?❞

[cosmicgalaxies]

[cosmicgalaxies]

— 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙘 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, in fact, he would call for an UBER before setting foot on a bus. The smell, first of all, and having to sit next to strangers? He wasn't looking to get a case of lice at all, thanks. But bus stops were useful for a few things - he could stand out of the way, without worry of someone pushing past him. There were a few with shaders up - which meant a bit more privacy when making phone calls.

And, perhaps more importantly, they were better for smoking cigarettes than some grimy alley where rats might run across his foot.

Ironically, he is actually waiting for a ride, but not from the bus. He brings a cigarette to his lips while he waits, thinking he'll mind his own business and the other bus stop occupants will mind theirs. Until, that is, one of them starts talking. In a black hoodie and jeans, they're irrelevant to Bank. But once they start talking, Bank knows he would recognize that voice anywhere.

❝What the fuck are you talking about?❞ Bank asked. ❝Next thing you'll tell me is that the whole show was inspired by someone who went scuba-diving while they were high and had an enlightening conversation with a starfish.❞ Bank was not having any of it. ❝ I call bullshit.❞

OPEN STARTER - Veer Sivakumar ( snake den - the hermit ) @ empty bus stop

Veer was being inconspicuous, black hoodie, skinny jeans, beat-off vans, his hair fluffy and falling over his forehead. He was quiet as a mouse, moving through the world without leaving a single imprint, could've been a spy, if he didn't have such a big mouth. He'd been sitting at the bus stop for about ten minutes, staring out into the rain, the other person gave no sign that they'd noticed him.

They weren't so sure if they liked that, the silence would drive them mad. Sound, they loved sound. Even in their hide-outs now, they had a machine nearby, the wiring of its fans a reminder that they were alive.

"Did you know this bus stop was the direct inspiration for the famed bus episode of Spongebob?" they asked, smirking as they spoke. "One of the writers sat at this exact spot for three hours, then really had to pee, and as they returned, the bus drove off. Then they sat another four hours before another came. True story." Perfect bullshit. But hey, Spongebob had saved their life in prison, truly.

[cosmicgalaxies]

[cosmicgalaxies]

*     ◟    :    〔   bie thassapak hsu  ,      cis male    +   he/him    〕      "bank" supachai    shinawatra ,      some say you’re a  thirty-three-year-old  lost soul among the neon lights.      known for being both  dutiful  and  destructive,  one can’t help but think of  nobody  by   mitski  when you walk by.    are you still a    CIO  at    NEWS CORPORATION LIMITED / SOLDIER FOR THE BURNING GODS,     even with your reputation as the broken crown?     i think we’ll be seeing more of you and    expensive watches, ruined paintings, and late nights,    although we can’t help but think of kendall roy, sisyphus, the green knight gawain    whenever we see you down these rainy streets.      (      kit  ,      25  ,      she/her  ,     cst  .     )

Name: Bank Supachai Shinawatra Age: Thirty-three Birthday: April 27th Zodiac: Taurus

Hobbies: Art collecting, watch collecting, casual drug use Habits: Staying up until the sun rises, no social life outside of work, watching only old movies, never wears the same clothes twice. Family: Mongkut Shinawatra ( father ) Li Hua Tsai ( mother ), Anchali Shinawatra ( half-sister ) Orientation: Bisexual, biromantic

Inspirations: Kendall Roy, Sisyphus, The Green Knight, Icarus, Jay Gatsby Aesthetics: Newly pressed shirts, aging oak barrels, vintage cologne bottles, an open endless ocean, walking alone in the snow, glowing office lights at night. Headcanons:

Bank loves cats. His penthouse always has at least three or four cats running around. If Bank had a will, he would probably leave some of his money to them.

Mongkut and Bank's mother, Li Hua, was perhaps the shortest of his fathers' marriages, lasting less than six months. Bank's birth was a surprise to them all, with Li Hua believing herself unable to have children. Between the two, Bank has always spent more time with his father. Once he started making enough money of his own, Bank made sure to give his mother a nice home to reside in, and he has a standing dinner with her monthly.

College is perhaps the only time Bank had a genuine social life. Coding languages came to him naturally. And for his other classes, he had no trouble paying off others to do the work for him so he could party or drink.

History: ( prison mention tw )

Born into the prestigious Shinawatra family, Bank was raised in the face of his father's company. Born just months after his father, Mongkut Shinawatra, and his mother, Li Hua Tsai were divorced, Bank was taken under his father's wing and given anything a young boy could ask for. He was surrounded by wealth, privilege, and experienced a life of pure opulence.

The empire belonging to the Shinawatra family grew with each passing year, and from the time he was a young boy, Bank was promised it all, the name, the glory, the respect that comes with leading people to victory, success, and riches. With any agreement, Bank had his own promise to uphold - to prove himself, to mold his young soul into his father's image of what should and should not be. A prince is simply gifted a crown, Bank was expected to earn it.

News Corporation Limited was not the only growing empire. Bank had watched technology grow alongside each asset his father purchased, and in that, Bank saw an opening. He had no passion for computers and languages, but an innate talent seemed etched inside of him. With the desire to inherit his family's business, Bank saw it to make himself integral to the company's support system. Coding, websites and programs and filters, Bank saw to it that he would learn them all in order to keep his corporate world as up to date with their competitors.

A talent initially meant to attract the attention of his father brought about the attention of more than what Bank could have expected. The Burning Gods, responsible for Mongkut's corporate success naturally had an interest in what services his son could offer to them. Eager to prove himself, Bank was more than happy to oblige. Social Security numbers, banking information, credit cards, and more. Any information uploaded online, Bank could get his hands on. He was untouchable, with a goose chase covering up his tracks.

— Or so he wished. A long-standing operation to take down a serial identity thief eventually led investigators to Bank himself. His father's influence could only save him from so much. From Mongkut's perspective, it was time his son learned his actions still had their consequences. Money could do a lot, but wouldn't save everyone. Bank sat through a lengthy trial, and even with the best lawyers, too many signs pointed back to him. Sentenced for five years in prison, Bank only served three, and was then released for good behavior.

For so much of his life, Bank's name meant one of respect, even fear of how far their influence reached. To Bank, it now feels like a collar chained around his neck, an inescapable shadow, and the fear that lurks around every corner. Bank still retains his position at his father's company, but expects every e-mail to be his last. And his position within The Burning Gods has been burned to the point of no return. Bank still recalls what he was promised as a young boy, and remains acutely aware of his own talents. His father, his family, his associates, may not believe in his ability to rise to the top, but he intends on showing them all just how cutthroat he can be.

[cosmicgalaxies]

THASSAPAK HSU as Prach When a Snail Falls in Love (2023)

[cosmicgalaxies]

𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙎𝙞𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙖 intro. threads. musings. photos. tasks. pinterest.